Daphne
by unicorn24601
Summary: Enjolras, the Prince of France, wants to start a revolution to overthrow his own family. He decides to ask the opinion of the palaces new maid, and calls her to his room. Unfortunately for the two of them, he instantly falls for her. Can their forbidden love bloom? Despite the title, this is an Enjolras/Éponine fic!
1. Chapter 1

The young woman, unlike many other workers at the palace, was not born into her life as a servant. Her parents had been thieves, but before she could get too deep into the life of crime, she had run away and had gotten a job as a floor sweeper for the royal family of France.

She had never even gotten a look at the royal family until she was promoted to maid. Her job was simple, really, to tidy up and fetch things for the royals if they so needed.

She hadn't been called upon by them until her second month on the new job. She was dusting in the foyer when one of the other maids, Amelie, told her that the prince needed assistance with something and he had requested the young woman's presence specifically. She was taken aback. How did the prince even know she existed?

* * *

Etienne Enjolras, the Prince of France was sitting at his desk, poring over a map of Paris when a tentative knock sounded at his bedroom door. He had called up the new maid to hear her thoughts on the idea of revolution. Enjolras planned to organize a revolt of the people to overthrow his parents and start a republic, and by asking a lower class person, he would be able to gain perspective.

He leapt up from his chair and walked to the door, opening it in one swift motion. He froze at the sight of the maid.

Her small frame was tough looking, as if she'd been through a lot in her years. She had wavy brown hair that was coming out of her bun in the front, so it was framing her face. But it was her eyes that fascinated Enjolras the most. They were large almond shaped eyes of the most vivid chocolatey brown, full of mystery, full of secrets.

She was absolutely perfect.

Enjolras felt a wave of an unknown feeling hit him like a ton of bricks. His entire body was filled with a warmth that made his fingertips tingle, and he felt this wanting, this _need_ to be held by this girl's arms, this need to have her kiss the top of her head and whisper sweet nothings to him, this need of _her_.

This couldn't be love. Enjolras had always rejected the very notion of love, but at this moment he wasn't so sure about his previous judgements. A voice in the back of his head told him, "_You're in love, Etienne, now control_ yourself and everything will work out. Maybe she will feel the same." His stomach flipped at that thought.

All of this Enjolras registered in the space of .01 second.

"May I be of any assistance, your highness?" the maid asked. God, her voice was mesmerizing, a smooth alto with a bit of raspiness.

Enjolras cleared his throat. "Erm, yes. Come in, mademoiselle. I have a, uh, a question to ask you," he stammered. What was wrong with him?

"Ask away," she said. It was clear that she was no perfect young lady, no polite maid that did what she was told and nothing else. That was admirable about her.

Enjolras took a deep breath before asking, "What are your thoughts on... revolution?"

The maid (Enjolras decided to call her Daphne in his head, it seemed to fit her) did a double take. "Revolution? As in a revolt to overthrow the government?"

"Precisely. You see, if my parents are overthrown then no more oppression will be brought to the people. I know I could wait for them to die and form a republic without a fight but that would take far too long, the people need justice now, and my parents aren't giving it to them," he said passionately.

Daphne was in deep thought, Enjolras could tell. "I have to say, although I believe it is a death wish, a republic would do this country good," hearing these words from Daphne made Enjolras' heart soar. "However, it would never work," she said evenly.

Enjolras' heart flew back into place. "What do you mean, it won't work? Of course it will work! You haven't even heard the plans yet and you already think it will not work?" he asked incredulously.

Daphne backed down considerably, seeing that she had offended royalty. "I apologize, your highness, it's just that, well, you're not very in touch with the people, being as you are always shut up in here," she said politely.

"Please, mademoiselle, call me Enjolras," he said. "and you are right, I am not in touch, but that was what this conversation is about, that is why I called you up in the first place, to get in touch."

Daphne considered this. "I suppose you're right, but I still think that this is a death wish."

For a moment, Enjolras pictured himself dying a noble death on a barricade, and this girl cradling him as he died with a smile on his face.

_Stop_, he commanded himself. _What is wrong with you? Stick to your books and your plans, goddamnit!_

Unfortunately, he realized a bit too late that he had said that last word out loud with much force.

Daphne visibly flinched. "Did I do something wrong, your highn- Enjolras?"

Hearing his name exit her lips was heaven. He wondered what his name would sound like if she was screaming in ecstasy it as the two of them-

He stopped that thought in its tracks.

"No, nothing at all is wrong," he was acutely aware of the burning in his cheeks.

"I am afraid I must be going," Daphne said slowly as she studied him with a furrowed brow. "But it was nice talking to you Enjolras." she exited the bedroom without permission.

No, she was far from proper. But that was alright with Enjolras, because neither was he. But he had to know.

"Wait!," he cried as he burst out of his room and looked around. Daphne was halfway down the hallway when she turned to look at him. "Yes, Enjolras?"

"What is your name?"

Her face split into a mind boggling smile. Her smile was better than when she said his name. He could only fathom what her laugh might be like.

"Éponine," she said, and hurried on her way.

Éponine.

**Éponine**.

_Éponine_.

It was a name that he never wanted to forget.

* * *

**A/N: I know how out of character this is, but I did that on purpose, so bear with me here!**

**My other story, Angry Men is on hiatus due to writers block. Sorry, but inspiration just hasn't hit me yet. But this one is gonna be good, I can tell.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, tons of follows! Thanks everybody!**

**Yes, I know that this is tacky and sappy and gooey and romantic all love-at-first-sight but I want this to be the most sappy romantic story ever so deal with it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis.**

* * *

Éponine had felt it, too. Just as strong as the prince's feelings had been. She felt a fluttering in her stomach as she walked away; she wanted to walk back to this boy, this prince who she felt so wonderfully terrified about.

She reached the maids quarters and shut the door firmly behind her. She collapsed onto her bed situated next to Amelie's. Éponine was exhausted, her day had been long, and now she felt tired, but all she wanted was to go speak to the prince more, even in her worn out state.

Yes, she was in love. Irreversibly, completely, ridiculously in love with the Prince of France.

The Prince of France!

"Merde," Éponine cursed under her breath so only her pillow could hear. She couldn't be in love with the Prince of France. _First of all_, she reasoned with herself, _there's no way he could feel the same way. You are his maid, and he is the prince! You are so far below him. And besides, even if he did love you, then his parents (and society as a whole) would surely not allow it. You would be executed, and he too perhaps._

The mere thought of Enjolras being executed brought shivers down her spine. There was no way that was going to happen, not while she was living.

Why was she so head over heels for him? She'd only met him once. But it felt like longer. It felt like she had met him many times over, like they were closer than close.

Éponine sighed.

_He will never feel this way._

* * *

Enjolras' head was reeling, this girl, Éponine, sent his world turning, what was right seemed wrong, and vice versa. He simply had to see her again, and soon.

He quickly scribbled down a note to her. It read-

_Éponine,_

_Meet me in the grounds tonight at eleven. By the big oak tree with the bench. My parents are usually asleep by then. If you do not show up, then I accept that you do not wish to see me again and you shan't hear from me another time, unless strictly business. I do wish you come._

_Yours,  
Enjolras_

He folded the note in thirds and wrote her name neatly on the outside. He walked purposefully down the hallway towards the maids quarters. His parents didn't even know where the help lived, but Enjolras tried to stay connected to the lower class. How had he not met Éponine until now?

He tried a gentle knock on the door. No answer. He knocked a little harder. Nothing. Then he banged on the door a little rudely. Still not a single response. Finally he slid the note under the door, praying Éponine would find it before anyone else did.

* * *

Thankfully, Enjolras' prayer was answered. That night at 11:03 as he sat on the bench under the oak tree he saw a figure approach. His heart raced at the thought of it being Éponine. How was he going to start this conversation?

Before long, she was sitting on the bench next to him. She was absolutely a breathtaking beauty. In his eyes at least. He needed to just stay calm, she was right here. "Good evening, mademoiselle Éponine," he said evenly.

She smiled a sly smile. "Good evening... your highness," she said a bit teasingly.

"Are you mocking me, mademoiselle?" he kidded right back.

"Perhaps I am, perhaps I am not. What does it matter to you?"

Enjolras looked down before he spoke again. "Do you... I don't think... you don't..." He was usually so good with words! "Do you know why I asked you to come out here?"

The girl shook her head no.

All he had to do was be honest. "When I met you earlier, I found you...fascinating. I wanted to speak to you again and get to know you a bit better. Oh dear, you must think me terribly forward."

"No! No, it's fine. I like forward. No little games, no way to get misled. What do you want to know?"

Then, almost in a whisper, he said:

"If you felt it, too."

Éponine's brows furrowed. "Felt what?"

Enjolras turned on the bench to face her. Feeling bold, he took her hand. "When I saw you, I felt this strange something I cannot quite place. But I want to be close to you, and you are commanding my thoughts and I know I've only met you once and this sounds ridiculous but I think I might-"

"Be in love with you?" Éponine finished the thought for him. Enjolras nodded.

"I know how you feel," Éponine said, then leaned in slowly. Enjolras followed suit, and soon his lips were in contact with hers, her hand buried in his hair, her other still clasping his.

When they broke apart, Éponine studied Enjolras carefully before saying, "Why? Why me? I'm no one, invisible, small. You're so tall and handsome and kind and brave."

"Nonsense. You are-"

"Besides we really should not be doing this in the first place. We met each other less than a day ago! This is ridiculous, I cannot proclaim my love for someone I do not know!"

"Then why did you? I have this friend, Marius is his name. He fell in love with a girl at first sight. He found her later that night, and they kissed before they had said 'hello'."

The maid's face cracked a half smile. "Your friend Marius sounds positively foolish."

"But now we find ourselves in his position, do we not?" He kissed her again, this time longer and more certain, their hearts beating, their lips moving, their minds turning as one.

They had to pull away after a considerable amount of time, and leaned forehead to forehead.

Éponine spoke first. "How are we going to go about this? Shall we meet here every night at this time?"

Enjolras pulled away. "What do you mean?"

"Well we need a secret meeting place if we're going to continue to see each other," she said.

"No. No, we won't. I do not want to keep you a secret."

"I'm afraid you must, my darling. I could be executed, or made never to see you again, which would be worse. Once the world comes around, then we may shout out the news."

With a sigh, Enjolras responded, "I suppose you're right, but it is nothing short of excruciating that we cannot be together openly."

"I couldn't agree more. But...could we make it every night at midnight? That's much more romantic then eleven," Éponine said, putting a tone of disgust on the last word.

Enjolras let out a big, full laugh so loud Éponine had to cover his mouth with both her hands. He stopped laughing and tenderly removed Éponine's hands from his mouth (but not before planting a gentlemanly kiss on her knuckles) and agreed.

"Love," he said, "we should probably head back to the palace now. But I shall see you tomorrow at midnight right here."

"Alright, if you insist."

The two of them walked hand in hand until they got almost close enough to the palace that someone may see them from the window. Then Enjolras left Éponine with a quick kiss to the lips and a promise to see her tomorrow. Éponine waited about five minutes before entering the palace herself, to help avoid suspicion.

The two of them went to bed that night sporting large contented smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Isabella is 100% made up. This is not real France, and this story is not focusing too much on history.**

* * *

The love affair between the price and the maid went on for three months completely unnoticed. Until one night. The changes in the two lover's moods were all too obvious to those around them-two maids were discussing just that one night while Éponine was still on her shift.

Amelie and Dulcie were gossiping about the staff in the palace when Éponine came up.

"What is going on with this shift in her mood? The first month she was here, she was quiet, but now she's smiling all the time and she seems to be floating when she walks," Amelie said.

"Obviously she's in love," Dulcie stated.

"That's clear as day. But who with? Pierre, the stable boy?"

"No, he smells something terrible. Perhaps Alphonse?"

"He's rather old for her. Marcel?"

"Certainly not. Marcel is quite cold hearted, especially to the new staff."

"The only man around here that is close to her age and not mean-spirited is the prince."

The truth dawned on them both at the same time.

"That's why she always leaves in the middle of the night and comes back grinning!" Dulcie whispered excitedly.

Amelie chirped in. "The other night, when I was serving the royal family their dinner, they asked Etienne why on Earth he had come into the palace so late at night!"

The theory that a maid and the prince were having an affair was a piece of drama too juicy to let go, so the two women decided to find out the truth.

* * *

Éponine and Enjolras had spent the night looking at the stars. After a while, however, Éponine started to doze off, so Enjolras had crept over to a birdbath near their special bench and dipped in his fingers. Then he sprayed a bit of water onto Éponine's face. She sat up immediately, looking murderous. They spent the next fifteen minutes chasing each other around and splashing each other.

They walked back arm in arm and parted ways with a kiss, like always.

But this night was different. Because Éponine nor Enjolras hadn't known that two women lurking in the bushes had seen it all.

* * *

Enjolras went down to breakfast the next morning expecting the usual. His parents telling him to get a wife soon, he telling them he would when he found someone, and thinking about Éponine the whole time. But today everything was different. The king and queen, Gregoire and Ida, were wearing furious expressions and no food was in front of them.

"Is something the matter?" Enjolras asked curiously.

His mother spoke first. "Is there something you would like to tell us, Etienne? Something you have been keeping a secret?"

Enjolras had many secrets from his parents, to which they were referring was a mystery to him.

"We know about your little... _affair_," said his father.

Enjolras blanched. How did they know about Éponine? They had been so careful, never letting on during the day when they saw each other. What if they got rid of her? They could fire her or worse. There was no way Enjolras was letting anything happen to his Éponine.

"I see you know what we are talking about," said his father with a contented smile.

"What did you do to her?" Enjolras growled.

"Well, nothing yet," said Ida. Enjolras let out a sigh of relief.

"We are leaving that to you," she finished.

The prince raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that, may I ask?"

His father spoke. "You see, two maids were the first to draw my attention to your little romance, so I asked them about this girl. She, apparently, is a stubborn type. They said that she wouldn't leave without a fight. So we need you to get her out."

"I refuse. I protest strongly to firing her at all. I happen to be in love with her."

The room fell silent. Ida's mouth formed a straight line and she seemed to be trembling with rage. "Etienne...you know that everything you are saying is completely and utterly _blasphemous_. I demand you fire her!" There was a moment where she and her son glared into each other's eyes, then she spoke again. "Well, it matters not. We have made arrangements for you to marry Isabella, the Princess of Spain."

The prince took a moment to absorb that. _Marrying_ someone? Someone who wasn't Éponine? Someone who he had never even met? Someone who was surely as spoiled and selfish as the other women who had been forced upon him? This was not acceptable.

"Mother! Before, your relentless matchmaking has been an annoyance- a dinner with a dolt of a girl, always rich and always excruciatingly boring. But now it is different. Now I have someone I _wish_ to marry. I would rather _die_ than break Éponine's heart like that," he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Gregoire chimed in with a cold reply of "Etienne, I am sorry you cannot be with whatever _scum_ you choose, but you have no say in this. You are to marry Isabella at months end. _Éponine_," he spat her name out like it was poisoned. "will be gone before tomorrow morning. You should count yourself lucky, boy. What you and her were up to is the deepest of felonies. The choice is yours, Etienne- you fire her, or we arrest her."

Enjolras sighed. He had to do what was best for Éponine. Even if that meant breaking her heart beyond repair.

* * *

That night, Éponine was waiting anxiously for Enjolras at their usual meeting place, the bench under the tree. She saw his figure approaching and her heart jumped a bit. Before long, he was standing directly in front of where she was sitting. Éponine stood up and pressed a kiss to his lips. At first he responded, but after a moment, he went stiff and stopped moving in time with her.

Éponine pulled back. "Enjolras? What is the matter? Did something happen?"

Enjolras cleared his throat nervously and looked at the ground.

"I don't love you," he blurted.


End file.
